Moving Forward
by Moonchild10
Summary: On her father's wedding day, Haruhi reflects on her relationship with a certain former host and confides in her late mother. One-shot


_Disclaimer: Bisco Hatori owns Ouran :weeps: Not me._

_So anyway, I wrote this for Rayne Marie to cheer her up (: I hope it helps! I've also discreetly snuck all of my OTP's into this one fic...  
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"I think I lost my shoes!"

In the insanity of the living room, Kousaka spun around, the bouquet she was nervously fiddling with flying from her hand. It soared through the air like a missile and hit Haruhi square in the face. With a soft, surprised yelp, Haruhi stumbled backward and bumped into Mei, who in turn bumped into Hikaru and sent him sprawling backward into the adjoining kitchen.

"Sorry, Haruhi-chan," the tense woman muttered, pushing her glasses, which were nearly falling off, back up onto her nose. She flapped her hands slightly now that they were unoccupied, and Haruhi nodded and handed her a pillow from the sofa to fiddle with.

"It's okay," Haruhi assured her with a smile. "And don't worry, your shoes are by the door. Everything is going to be fine."

"I guess you're right. I'm just glad I have you around. I'd probably have gone insane if I didn't," Kousaka informed Haruhi, which made her laugh slightly.

"I doubt that," Kousaka was an alumni of the same university that Haruhi now attended and she knew that someday, the woman who stood twiddling her thumbs nervously before her would be somewhat of a rival to her as a lawyer. At the moment, all she could think of was how small she looked with her hands trembling in her soft white kimono and how disconcerting it must be to be in her position. "It's normal to feel like this. Everybody probably feels nervous before their wedding."

"Right," seeming slightly reassured, Kousaka stood straighter and nodded. "I'll be fine!" as one of Kousaka's friends of college moved over to begin fixing the bride's makeup, Haruhi stepped out of the way to allow them some private chatting time. She moved backward and narrowly missed running into one of her father's friends from work. Rubbing a hand against her temple, Haruhi sighed. She realized now just how impractical an idea it was getting everyone ready in she and her father's apartment. The space simply wasn't designed for crowds of women dabbing on makeup and scores of men standing awkwardly about like expensive statues in their stark suits. There was hustle and bustle everywhere, and Haruhi had to move around for a few minutes before she could squeeze herself into the deserted nook where her mother's shrine was set up. She was winded from both the stress and the exertion of wading through crowds too large for her small living room, and she actually stood panting for a moment. She was reminded of that first day she had arrived in Ouran Academy's third music room.

"Hey, Mom. Sorry I haven't really had time to talk to you lately," bending down, Haruhi smiled at the photograph. She happened to catch sight of herself in the glass that protected the picture, and couldn't help her amusement at the fact that at this moment, with her own hair fastened in a ponytail and red lipstick staining her mouth, she and her mother looked startlingly alike. She was sure her father would notice this, though she was not sure exactly how he would react. "You've missed so much, and I wish you were here. I know Dad still thinks about you all the time, and I know you'd want him to be happy so… he's marrying Yuu-chan from next door today, Mom. I'm not sure if he loves her as much as he loves you, but…" she smiled slightly. "He loves her. She makes him happy. I know after all these years, it's what you'd want." she paused for a moment. "Can you see all of this? All these people in our house? It seems like everybody's gone crazy. But I guess weddings always make people crazy. It might be easier if you were here. I wish you were. I wish you could meet all of my friends. And I wish… I wish you could meet Tamaki. You'd really love him, Mom." Haruhi smiled secretly to herself and pushed a lock of escaping hair from her face. "You really would. He makes me feel special."

Off to the left, someone ran into the wall with a thud, and Haruhi jumped in surprise. It was with a sick feeling of dread that when she did, her hand happened to hit the photograph on the shrine before her. She watched it fall in slow motion and waited for that picture that had sat on that same table since she was four years old to smash into a million glittering pieces. However, the sound of smashing glass did not come. A large hand reached in front of her and delicately grabbed the photo's frame in midair and set it gently back on the table.

"Careful," said a laughing voice, and Haruhi looked up to see Tamaki beaming down on her, wearing a rather expensive-looking white suit and lavender tie.

"Tamaki…" she breathed, wiping sweat she had not noticed from her forehead. "Thank you."

"Of course! There was no way I was going to let it fall." the blonde extended a hand to her and Haruhi took it tentatively. Tamaki helped her to her feet and did not speak as she had expected him to. He simply looked at her for a moment, smiling. "You look so beautiful."

Haruhi had the sense, of course, not to blush. She smiled back at him, actually rather pleased. "Thanks, Tamaki…" she had finally filled out enough, much to her father's joy, to wear her mother's old dresses. The one she wore now was a simple pale purple affair without straps. It made her feel that much closer to the smiling woman in the photograph, and there was something far more touching about Tamaki approving of the way she looked in it than him complimenting her on anything else. "It was my mom's."

"It suits you," Tamaki touched her cheek lightly, and his fingertips were warm against her skin. She couldn't help leaning into the touch, rubbing her cheek slightly against it. "You look so much like her, you know."

"Everyone says that," Haruhi smiled. "Especially my dad." for a moment, she laughed softly at the memory of the time when Tamaki himself referred to her as his daughter. It seemed to her that they had come such a long way since those old days. All of the uncertainty that had plagued them so long ago was left behind in the wake of the glittering fever that was their relationship, and nothing had been the same since. It made Haruhi feel rather triumphant to note that in the end nothing, not Tamaki's grandmother or any amount of lawyers or even all the unfortunate coincidences in the world, had been able to keep them apart. The reason for it was as clear as day as they stood together now and sparks seemed to come from his skin at the places where they touched as he caressed her cheek.

"I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you, Haruhi," Tamaki's voice was soft and serious and even now as an adult it was a tone he rarely took unless he was being completely sincere. "You're the most wonderful person in the world."

Haruhi blushed slightly. Before meeting Tamaki, her face had never hurt from smiling too much, but now it was a daily occurrence. She reached back at pulled out the already slipping ponytail she wore, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders, and then fell forward to press her face into his chest. His arms came up around her, seeming to shelter her from the world, and almost immediately the natural effect he had on her set in; the rest of the world fell away and they were the only people in the room.

"Do you even have any idea how much I love you, Tamaki?" she asked, closing her fist around a handful of his jacket out of pure habit. She could feel him nod as his chin came down to rest on top of her head.

"Yes, and even if I didn't, it makes me happy to know you tell me enough that I'd know anyway," he laughed softly and kissed her hair with a breathtaking tenderness. "And I like to think that maybe I love you even more…"

"I'm not playing this game, Tamaki," Haruhi told him, raising one eyebrow though he could not see her expression. "It's just silly."

"But it's so cute," he kissed her hair again and then tilted her face up to look into her eyes. "To hear you say that you love me like that."

Haruhi leaned up on her tiptoes and nearly pressed a kiss to his mouth, but then pulled back slightly at the last second so their lips barely brushed. Tamaki whined softly, and Haruhi laughed. He hated when she teased him, but his reaction was always far too amusing for her to give it up. Nearly kissing him again but then once more denying him at the last possible opportunity was crossing the line and she knew it, but she did it anyway. In response, Tamaki's hand slipped around the back of her neck and pulled her forward to connect their lips rather roughly.

"I don't like being teased," he whispered sweetly against her lips before kissing her again, deeper this time. Haruhi kissed him back eagerly for a moment before remembering that they were not alone. She quickly forced herself to stop and settled for hugging him instead.

"Are you excited for the wedding?" she asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Of course," Tamaki replied rather smugly, seeming to know her intentions. "It's not every day I get to see my lawyer wed my girlfriend's father. And it's wonderful to see two people in love knowing they're always going to be together…" his indigo eyes were full of purpose at these words.

"Tamaki…" Haruhi whispered. Before she could speak again, there was a sharp tap on her shoulder.

"Haruhi, we have to go," Mei's shimmering blue gown was obviously one she had designed herself, and she looked rather like a movie star in it, especially with Hikaru clinging adoringly to her left elbow. "They're expecting us all at the temple. I've already dragged out Kyouya and Kaoru while they were necking in the bathroom."

"You should have seen the look on Kyouya's face," Hikaru snickered softly.

"It was priceless," Mei agreed, her need to gossip seeming to flare up in spite of herself. "I've never seen him blush so much…" Mei cut herself off as Ryouji rounded the corner, looking rather dashing in his dark suit with his long red hair spilling around his shoulders.

"You look great, dad," Haruhi told him, stepping out of Tamaki's arms and making him whimper in protest. "Nervous?"

"Extremely!" the redhead declared heartily with a nod. "But so happy! I never thought I would be getting married again, not in a million years! I never even thought it was possible for me to love anyone else. And now here I am and… you don't think Kotoko would mind, do you?" his voice grew soft on the last words, and he looked far meeker than could generally be expected of him.

"Of course not," Haruhi beamed fondly at him. Her confidence seem to instill some comfort in her father. "She would want you to be happy. It's been such a long time, Dad. It's okay to move on. It's what she would want, right? She wouldn't want you miss out on being happy. I bet she's watching us right now."

"You're right, Haruhi," Ryouji agreed with a vigorous nod. "Kotoko was always practical and… she would want us to be happy. Both of us," he gave a purposeful glance between she and Tamaki. "So I suppose the best we can do it be happy… for her." with that, Ryouji grinned and headed out the front door. Haruhi took Tamaki by the hand and led him with her after her father. As the two of them walked down the steps together, she glanced up at the bright blue afternoon sky.

_"I wonder if you really are watching us right now, Mom. If you are, I'm sure you're laughing. But I never thought… I could be so happy. Wherever you are, I hope you're happy too. It's not that Dad and I have forgotten you, and I hope you know that. We've just found the people that make us almost as happy are you did."_

"Come on, Haruhi!" Tamaki tugged on her arm gently like a child, and she laughed softly and hurried after him, feeling like a teenager again. "We're going to be late!"

"I'm coming!" stumbling after him and smiling happily, Haruhi squeezed his hand. She paused for a moment in the warm spring air before getting into the passenger seat of Tamaki's car and let the breeze drift through her hair. In the center of the stillness, she smiled at the feeling of the sun on her cheeks, as comforting as the touch of a mother's hand.

**Fini**


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